I sound like a broken record again!

Once again, I am overjoyed to read today's Terry Teachout column. He waxes quite eloquently on one of my favorite altomen, Bud Shank. Of all the strains of modern jazz, my favorite has to be the work that came out of the Stan Kenton sax section in the 1950's (and the fellows who were loosely affiliated with those guys, even just in spirit, so I get to include Chet Baker, Paul Desmond, etc.). I have learned over the years that the distinctions between "West Coast" and "East Coast" jazz are nonsense when looked at with any sort of critical eye. Is Getz West or East? Cool or hot? Before you answer those questions, really think. Can you call Getz a Philly musician or an LA musician? Cool tone, but wasn't it really just an individual take on the quintessentially New Yorker Lester Young's sound? And what about when he played quite hot with Oscar Peterson?

Anyway, I have seen Bud Shank in recent years, and he is as good as Teachout says. The only problem for me in listening to Shank is that his sound really makes me miss Gerry Mulligan, who was one of the absolute greatest. Mulligan could pull off dates with Thelonious Monk and Astor Piazzola, fit in with either, yet still sound essentially like Mulligan. Shank shares tremendous artistic sympathies with Mulligan, and I can't help but have a tinge of sadness over Mulligan's untimely death whenever I hear Shank (or Desmond, for that matter).

In fact it is hard to listen to that great post-Kenton music and not feel a tinge of melancholy over the fact that those sounds are now distinctly sounds of a lost golden age. I am not saying that there will be nothing better, but we will never have that sound again. So, do not pass up the opportunity to see Shank or Brubeck if they come around your parts. John Salmon, in the comments box to the post about Teachout's post on Desmond, mentions that Brubeck is playing with some Maynard Ferguson alums. I do not want to miss that!

The second part of Teachout's post is a marvelous reflection on viewing art. I highly recommend it, particularly his part about seeing reputations rather than paintings. That sort of honesty is remarkable in a critic (take note, Kenneth Baker), and is someting any of us who care about art must always keep in mind. I try to fight it by taking really long looks at art (most people I know hate going to the museum with me, and the feeling is mutual for the most part. They find the time I want to spend utterly vexing, and I view their agitation as something akin to the persitant whining of a seven year old: "Are we there yet?" No, we are not there yet, and we cannot stop at the Nut Tree this time (sorry, but you have to be very familiar with Northern California to get the reference to the dearly lamented late Nut Tree. I apologize to you Ausländer). The only way for me to reach any sort of detante with my friends in a museum is if they allow me to be the tour guide. I find they at least get an idea of why I take so long, even if they are find my search for minor chords of minor chords of the golden section astoundingly dull) and by analyzing pieces by way of a variety of approaches.

Anyway, Teachout is fantastic. Read him!

What is the etymology of his name, anyway? Sounds like he has some rabid leftist heritage: Teach-in plus walk-out or something? I guess it beats archaic German for Wedgewood, though.

Speaking of Germans, I misquoted Monty Python in my response to Steven's comment. It is actually funnier:

Germans are very difficult to offend. Try setting them on fire or calling their Mercedes' Volkswagens.